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TEACHING TOLERANCE tolerance.org PODCAST TRANSCRIPT Romantic Friendships: Boston Marriage Pt 2 LEILA RUPP When I try to explain to my friends why my Aunt Leila was so important to me, I usually say that I’m her namesake, that she taught history like I do, and that she lived with a woman, Diantha, for as long as I can remember. They were just like a married couple in our family. We went on summer vacations with them “down the shore,” as we say in New Jersey, though they always rented their own apartment. They had one bedroom, with twin beds. They liked to drive to a spot overlooking the ocean and sit in their car reading. Sometimes they took me, and I sat in the back and read, too. I wrote poems, and Diantha, who taught English in the same Pittsburgh high school where Leila taught—encouraged me. Diantha cooked and Leila washed the dishes, and they teased each other, both claiming to do most of the work. They had other women friends who lived as couples. When Aunt Leila first met my partner Verta after Diantha had died, she took her aside. She told her how glad she was that I’d found a friend and asked whether Verta knew she, too, had had a friend. The last time I talked with Aunt Leila she was 89, in a nursing home and suffering from dementia. I hoped she would talk about Diantha, but when I mentioned her name, Leila didn’t say anything. In some ways, she hadn’t changed. She was still immaculately attired in a dress and pumps, her hair done and rouge on her cheeks. She had the same derisive chuckle that used to mean she thought you were a little crazy but now may have simply covered her confusion. When I complimented her on her elegant dress, she plucked the fabric in the front, looked down, and said, “This old thing?” Then she looked me right in the eye and said, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. But I can’t remember. Maybe I’ll remember later.” Seven weeks later, she died. I like to think she meant to tell me about Diantha. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking. I tell the story of Aunt Leila because I still don’t know if she was a lesbian. For me, she evokes all the complexities captured in the term same-sex love and sexuality. She was a “lady,” and a conservative one at that. To the outside world, she was a “maiden aunt,” or even an “old maid.” I always assumed she would be horrified by the label “lesbian.” In the past, she would have been described as having a “Boston marriage.” My uncertainty about whether I can name as a lesbian a woman who chose another woman as her life partner—but who as far as I know never embraced the identity—underscores the complexity of queer history. Her story evokes a long history of relationships between women, which, despite societal pressure for women to marry and raise families, were not considered deviant. Her story reminds us that intimate relationships have taken many forms, that women have made lives together without raising eyebrows, © 2018 TEACHING TOLERANCE 1 and that same-sex unions are not a novelty of the 21st century. Intimacy, like love and sexuality, has a history that matters. I’m Leila Rupp, and this is Queer America, a special series from Teaching Tolerance, a project of the Southern Poverty Law Center. LGBTQ history has been largely neglected in the classroom. But it’s necessary to give students a fuller history of the United States and to help them understand how that history shaped the society they live in. This podcast provides a detailed look at how to incorporate important cultural touchstones, notable figures, and political debates into an inclusive U.S. history curriculum. In each episode, we explore a different topic, walking you through historical concepts, suggesting useful source material and offering practical classroom exercises. Talking with students about sexual and gender identity can be emotional and complex. This podcast is a resource for navigating those challenges, so teachers and students can discover the history and comprehend the legacy of queer America. You might assume that same-sex relationships between women in the United States were always hidden and stigmatized in the past, but that isn’t always the case. Building on the conversation we began in our previous episode, historian Susan Freeman will share stories of what came to be called Boston marriages— relationships between women who made their lives with each other in a very public way at the turn of the 19th century. She’ll offer ideas for incorporating Boston marriage into U.S. history lessons to help your students understand the complex history of love and intimacy in our society. Here’s Susan Freeman. SUSAN FREEMAN Boston marriages: We might think of these as a kind of cousin of romantic friendships. Boston marriages came about in the late 1800s and into the early 1900s. And these were couples, two adult women who lived together and set up households together. And it was supposedly more common in the Northeast than elsewhere in the country, hence the name Boston marriages. There’s not a need to draw a strict line between romantic friends on the one hand and Boston marriages on the other. In fact, we might think of some relationships that women had as both. But if we want to draw a contrast, what we might point to is that romantic friendships often involved young women who exchanged love letters, had intimate and close relationships, and also one or more of the partners may have married a man after or while expressing and engaging in same-sex love. On the other hand, Boston marriages—those are epitomized by women who opt out of heterosexual marriage altogether, and they often co-habit for a period of several decades, if not a lifetime. This is in contrast to a more familial and economic arrangement of marriage that had prevailed for earlier times. Heterosexual marriage increasingly became sentimentalized as a way for a couple to unite their souls in the 19th century. In this context of thinking about marriage as a place where two people meet and find the one to spend their life with, that is the context in which women formed Boston marriages. If we think about the environment of separate spheres or the spaces where women spent a great deal of their time with other women, developed deeper emotional intimacy, it’s not surprising that women might find their one in a community of other women. And besides finding a partner, a loved one, someone they wanted to build a life with, women in Boston © 2018 TEACHING TOLERANCE TOLERANCE.ORG 2 marriages often found a broader base of support. There were other women couples forming in this era, especially around groups of women who were professional, educated and advocating for women’s rights. We begin to see the emergence of fledgling communities and networks of these women-loving women who support one another emotionally, become friends and also become champions of each other’s public activities. Coupled women in so-called Boston marriages belong to a generation referred to as New Women, or they were one of the generations of New Women, pioneering opportunities for women in higher education and professions and in public life. These women’s intimate relationships with other women are often left out of the story. The love stories and life successes of women in Boston marriages have the potential to appeal to all students, and they especially will appeal to those who fear that they might be held back by prejudice in pursuing their goals because perhaps their identity falls outside of one of the norms of society. Not fitting into the norm is not always a liability as we’ll see in the case of several Boston marriages. It’s important to note, though, that nearly all the known couples in Boston marriages were white, middle- and upper-class, so as you explore the meanings of their lives and their loves, the social and economic status they held is really important to address. And in two particular ways it’s important. First, in the past as well as today, we can’t allow one single person to stand in for the entire queer community. And likewise, when people use the acronym LGBTQ, no single letter—lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer—can represent the wholeness of that community and the diversity of same-sex love and gender-transgressive identities. And then second, the professional successes of women in Boston marriages very much relied on their white privilege as well as their access to financial independence. So, the capacity to set up a household together, to pursue a professional life, to engage in organizing for a variety of causes—these activities were possible because of the privilege that these women held. Your students in U.S. history are likely to be learning about—for the 19th century, the women’s’ rights movement as it forms, including the campaign for women’s’ suffrage, and growing opportunities for women to pursue educational, professional and other social opportunities. As you introduce these topics you can also help students to historicize the institution of marriage. Marriage in the 19th century is definitely a state-sanctioned arrangement, and it’s one that upholds patriarchy—the idea that men are heads of household, that they are the legal representative of the family, and that women are subsumed within and underneath their husband.